


Mace Windu’s Emotional Support Zillo Beast

by babzilla



Series: MaceObi Lizard Pals [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boga: Obi-Wan’s Emotional Support Veractyl, Episode: s02e19 The Zillo Beast Strikes Back, Heist, Implied Sexual Content, I’m not saying you should pretend that the Zillo Beast eventually eats Palpatine, Jedi Hijinks, M/M, but I’m also not NOT saying that, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26794057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babzilla/pseuds/babzilla
Summary: Moved by the plight of the last Zillo Beast, Mace Windu takes drastic measures to save the unique lifeform.A.K.A. It’s time for a heist!
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Mace Windu
Series: MaceObi Lizard Pals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151591
Comments: 50
Kudos: 547
Collections: Fun/Humour/Crack in a Galaxy Far Far Away, My heart is full





	Mace Windu’s Emotional Support Zillo Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Me, starting this: I’ll keep this short and sweet, 1.5k max.  
> Me, 5k later: >:C
> 
> If you see any errors, let me know, I can’t look at this thing anymore 😩

**Prologue**

_The day the Zillo Beast arrives on Coruscant, Mace Windu contemplates the terrible evil that will be done in the name of the Republic…_

Watching as the Zillo Beast was transported into a testing facility on Coruscant, Mace couldn’t help but doubt that despite Dr. Boll’s pure intentions and genuine desire to study the beast peacefully, nothing good would come of the endeavour. The Force never felt any clearer—away from the war, on Coruscant—but even so; he could feel the spider-cracks of _possibility_ splitting the fabric of the world as Mace saw it. All too easily the fate of the Zillo Beast threw the future into chaos; a vision of phantom flames and veils of smoke obscuring the horizon every time he closed his eyes.

Long after he had sent Obi-Wan away to try and leverage the Beast’s freedom through political means, the memory of those poison-green eyes haunted him.

There had been _something_ there. 

The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that not only was the Zillo Beast the last of its kind, but it was also sentient. A unique lifeform, alone in the universe. They had managed to save its life on Malastare… but to what end? Was this not a greater cruelty, to subject it to living in a cage as the subject of an experiment? What guarantee was there that the Republic would ever let it free?

As a Jedi he had a duty to try and save it, but the Chancellor had made his stance clear when it came to the Zillo Beast. No rank as a General, nor a position on the High Council would change the fact that Mace’s hands were tied and that he could go no further to help the creature in his current position.

Perhaps it should have taken more consideration, but when all other avenues were closed to him— the decision was clear.

If he could not help the Zillo Beast from a legal standpoint, then he would just have to… work around the law.

He feels certain that he only has a short time to act, if he truly wants to save the creature from its fate. And so, feeling grounded in the Force once again by having come to a decision, Mace wastes no time in putting together a plan of action, moving swiftly to his first destination.

In the Archives, he takes care to avoid Madame Nu at all costs. He had no hope of being able to fool the canny old Jedi should she catch him copying maps of Coruscant’s lower levels and reviewing old Temple blueprints. Madame Nu did not precisely have the gift of precognition, but she had dedicated her life to the Archives and thus had seen enough stupidity as to be able to scent it on the unwary.

Mace was not unwary.

With the afternoon sun still lighting the upper halls, he set out shortly to meet with another, who would hopefully consent to being an accomplice.

Subterfuge wasn’t exactly his strong suit, he was wise enough to know that by now. And as a member of the High Council, he was also wise enough to know that when faced with a task that required certain skills which you did not possess… it was best to call in an expert.

**Part One**

_Shortly before sunset, several concerned citizens join together with the aim of doing a great humanitarian deed..._

“I cannot _believe_ that you talked me into this,” Obi-Wan Kenobi complained as he hugged the exterior wall of the Zillo Beast Containment Facility, 500 feet above the ground and edging closer to the maintenance shaft after Oddball had been kind enough to provide them with an aerial drop-off.

Not that he had had to try very hard to talk Obi-Wan into this. The hypocrite.

“If your Padawan’s old friend hadn’t been so insistent that its hide could help the war effort, we wouldn’t be here,” Mace grunts in answer, following closely beside Obi-Wan. 

Despite the fact that they are both wearing unassuming black jumpsuits, their heads fully covered, the other Jedi Master still manages to look very offended, turning to face him while still moving towards the shaft entrance. 

“First of all, Anakin is a Knight and his poor taste is his own responsibility and I’ll thank you not to involve me in _that_. Secondly, shouldn’t you be glad he was so insistent?” He can imagine that here Obi-Wan has quirked a brow, and Mace just knows that he has that insufferable smirk fixed upon his face behind the balaclava. “I daresay the poor beast would already be dead if you had left it on Malastare. I thought you wanted to save it.”

Mace will not dignify that with a response, no matter how long the other Jedi stares at him.

“Watch your step, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan scoffs with derision, coming up on the maintenance shaft access panel and making quick work of getting it open.

“Watch my step,” he mutters mockingly as he ducks into the shaft, his voice echoing softly. “As if I couldn’t do this in my sleep.”

“You mean breaking and entering?” Mace asks, climbing in after him. “Or grand larceny?”

“Technically, as a goodwill mission, this is neither of those,” Obi-Wan replies absently, trying to orient himself. “I think we have to go left.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he says quietly, following after him. Obi-Wan ignores him.

It’s easy enough to find their way towards the main testing area, the simple configuration of the shafts essentially running through the exterior walls, and constructed tall enough that even Mace can stand without hunching.

“The shafts likely double as a ventilation system,” Obi-Wan says to his unasked question. “You know, for any poisonous gases.”

Mace’s disdain for the entire facility spikes once again as he casts a look about the shaft and finds a distressing lack of atmospheric purifiers. It’s not even up to code. He’ll have to remember to report it to the Works’ Environmental Safety Municipal Board when they get back to the Temple.

It doesn’t take them long to make their way through the shafts, walking silently until they’re overlooking the great cavernous space where the Zillo Beast is restrained. There is a single scientist, the familiar figure of Dr. Boll, milling about on a platform, with several troopers and droids dotted around the hall and all of them looking quite preoccupied with several yellow capsules. If he looks carefully, he can see the barest sliver of a green eye sluggishly roving across the facility.

Crouching and ready to release the access panel, Obi-Wan takes a communicator out of his pocket and eyes the display.

“We’ll have exactly fifteen minutes from 2100 hours to get out of here and to the lower levels,” Obi-Wan says patiently, watching the seconds tick down.

Mace can only raise an impressed brow at that, their window of opportunity more generous than he had hoped.

Obi-Wan's grin is obvious behind his mask, quick to pick up on Mace’s thoughts in the Force. “Crys is very good. You can’t steal him.”

“Just how many of your men are involved in this?” He asks dubiously.

“Oh, I’d say it’s a team effort,” Obi-Wan admits casually, not reassuring Mace at all that the entire 212th isn’t in on the plan. He shakes his head, a voice that sounds like Commander Neyo complaining of operational security echoing in his mind.

“Get ready now,” Obi-Wan says, tucking the communicator away and gripping the access panel with both hands. He turns to look back at Mace.

“Just so you know— if we get arrested, I’m telling them that as a senior member of the Council, you coerced me into this.”

Mace snorts at that, taking the panel from him and setting it out of the way. “No one will believe you.”

“Oh, I can be _very_ convincing,” Obi-Wan says tartly before stepping out of the maintenance shaft and dropping silently to ground level.

He waits until the other Jedi has moved off between the restraining apparatus holding the Zillo Beast in place before leaping out of the shaft, his own exit creating much more noise to distract from whatever Obi-Wan needs to do to keep the Beast docile.

Leaping from floating platform to scaffolding pillar to observation deck, he keeps only half his attention on Obi-Wan as he dodges blaster bolts. With the droids and troopers distracted by his own acrobatics, he can see that the other Jedi has managed to climb the restraining apparatus undetected and was kneeling on the narrow walkway closest to the Beast’s head, hand outstretched.

Another benefit to asking for Obi-Wan’s help on this operation— besides the man’s lengthy experience in getting around legal constraints when completing missions, he was also quite talented when it came to utilising animal kinship techniques in order to tame wild beasts which would otherwise have no qualms about eating him.

Leaving him to it, he sensed it was time to move to the next part of the plan. With a backward somersault off the observation deck, he landed with a shower of glass on Dr. Boll’s floating platform. The scientist herself made no sound as he approached the console, crouching calmly in a corner of the pod and simply watching as he started tapping away, letting the Force guide him through the motions of undoing the Zillo Beast’s restraints. 

“You need my key to override the door controls,” she says as he hesitates momentarily over that exact dilemma and he turns to her, head tilted askance.

“The Chancellor… the Chancellor ordered the Beast’s death,” she says quietly, gesturing to the oblong capsules lining the side of the pod. “These are filled with Malastare Fuel Toxin, they can kill it.”

Nodding in understanding, he holds out a hand and she rips her key-card from her lab coat, tearing the material and creating a good facsimile of being forced to give it up. Taking it, he whistles long and loud before punching the card into the console, the doors immediately responding to the override for them to open.

Looking towards the beast, he can see that Obi-Wan has climbed onto its head, settled easily behind the largest plate on its skull. With a running leap, Mace joins him, latching onto one of the many spikes protruding from the creature’s carapace.

“Well then, my dear,” Obi-Wan says, voice sounding faintly strained. “Shall we get going?”

“Let’s,” he agrees, tightening his grip on the creature’s armour plating.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan chuckles, still sounding weak as the Zillo Beast turns neatly and shoots out the door with incredible speed. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Electing to ignore Obi-Wan for now, Mace keeps his eyes to their back, watching for tails or heavy artillery. Fortunately, the Zillo Beast is fast and Obi-Wan’s man is as good as advertised as no alarms go up, not even when the troopers outside the facility reach for their comms.

All in all, as he watches the Zillo Beast Containment Facility grow smaller and smaller behind them, the air clear of any sirens and alarms, Mace doesn’t exactly think it would be tempting fate to say that things were going well, but he’d rather not risk it. Turning around once the facility has turned into a distant speck to his eyes, he shifts to better distribute his weight on the Beast’s neck.

“How’s it going?” He asks, looking to Obi-Wan.

“Well,” the other Jedi gasps, pressing his forehead into the creature’s scales, “They’re not very fond of our Chancellor!”

“Will it be difficult to guide them to the Temple?”

“That depends!”

“On what?”

“On whether I can convince them that the Chancellor wouldn’t taste very nice!”

Mace grimaces at that, thinking back to his original plan. Things had gone smoothly so far, but if the Beast was bent on revenge for its imprisonment and experimentation, then it was all the more crucial that they get to the Temple as quickly as possible. Once safe within Jedi borders, they could more easily induce a state of somnambulism in the creature. Moving the creature into a suitable space would be child’s play after that.

Feeling somewhat superfluous to the task at hand, Mace watches as Obi-Wan whispers to the Beast, his exact words lost to the icy wind whistling past them.

He thought—with no little amusement—as the creature beneath them gave a rumbling groan and changed direction slightly, that it would certainly add to Obi-Wan’s credentials if he could negotiate even with ancient beasts long thought to be extinct.

Having reached some kind of accord with the creature, Obi-Wan slowly uncurled from his spot, hands flexing in the chill of the Coruscant twilight, as beneath them the Zillo Beast’s gait turned from a determined stalk into a loping run. The Beast’s emotions were difficult to decipher without actively concentrating on them, but it was clear that it hadn’t been able to enjoy the simple freedom of stretching its legs in an age. 

Despite being wary of being accosted before they could safely get to the lower levels, Mace couldn’t quite bring himself to comment on the fact that they seemed to be taking a rather circuitous route, the Zillo Beast happily leaping over, or even winding its sinuous body between obstacles in their path.

“I have to say—!” Obi-Wan shouts over the rushing wind. “I think I prefer this to Anakin’s flying!”

Shaking his head, Mace let’s a laugh escape even as he keeps his eyes watching the horizon for any aerial patrols as they finally disappear into the bowels of Coruscant.

Diving down into the lower levels proves to be another source of great amusement to the Beast; the Jedi obliging the creature’s curiosity as it wheeled around sharp corners and inspected bright neon signs. Few people lived this close to the Works, but given the fact that people tended to populate every square inch of the capitol regardless of the less than scenic views outside their windows (if they even had windows), they still left plenty of startled people in their wake. With any hope, any witnesses would simply assume that the Zillo Beast had crawled up from the depths of Coruscant’s lowest levels and put the whole encounter out of their minds. Coruscant natives had certainly seen stranger things; a gigantic, six-limbed pseudo-lizard wasn’t so far out of the ordinary.

As they drew ever closer to the Temple, the passages seemed only more winding, but the old maps Mace had dug out of the Archives looked to still be accurate. And once they hit the Temple borders, the Zillo Beast beneath them seems to visibly perk up, speed increasing and moving, it seemed, with an intuition of its own.

When they clear the last tunnel, now deep in the ancient foundations of the Temple, they emerge into an area heavily steeped in the Living Force. The room is configured not unlike the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and was perhaps once its precursor, long left to grow wild. Curiously, the Temple’s climate control over the space was still in full effect, so while everything looked like a twilight forest untouched by civilization for a thousand years, it was still very much alive.

Impatient now that they had arrived at their destination, the Zillo Beast rumbled, its carapace shifting beneath them. Obligingly, the two Jedi jumped down from behind its head and the great beast wasted no time in twisting away between the overgrown trees, the high ceilings and great breadth of the room creating more than enough space for the creature to comfortably roam to its heart’s content.

“You know, Mace, if you wanted a pet so badly, we could have gotten you a pittin!” Obi-Wan says, pulling off his balaclava.

“The Temple tookas would have eaten it in a day,” he shoots back, similarly removing his mask and rolling his shoulders while the other Jedi shook out his hair with a laugh.

“Well, that went well, all things considered,” Obi-Wan sighs, sounding eminently satisfied as he finger-combed his hair. “Tea?”

“Why not,” Mace smiled back, looking around at the overhanging trees to locate the exit.

“I’ll race you,” Obi-Wan says without warning, immediately bouncing off with a Force assisted jump.

Letting the Force sing with his simple joy, Mace follows after him and they enjoy the next few minutes, zipping around the room like young Knights; free of responsibilities. This far into the heart of the Jedi Temple, the Darkness that so clouded the Force seemed nonexistent, the air feeling clean and full with the smell of living things.

It was good, he thought, to be reminded that though the Darkness hung over them like a shroud, it was not all encompassing. That the Light, and life itself, persevered— no matter how bleak the future seemed.

Breathing heavily and feeling refreshed, Mace and Obi-Wan land at the exit tunnel, neither contesting whether the other had won, each simply glad to have shared in the experience.

Behind them, the Zillo Beast emerges from the trees again, head low to the ground and level with the Jedi as it utters a gentle, clicking croon that causes the air around them to vibrate down to their bones.

Wordlessly, they each lay a hand on the Beast’s head, the Force gently flowing between them for a moment before they step back. It’s always a gamble to predict how individual creatures will take to the Force as wielded by the Jedi, but as he had surmised— the Zillo Beast certainly owned a unique sentience. Across the temporary connection, the creature had returned their feelings of home and safety, reflecting back an image of the world as seen through its eyes; the garden lit up in a wondrous display of colours not visible to the human eye. The Zillo Beast watches them for a moment longer, blinking its large green eyes slowly and deliberately, before turning its massive body back towards the depths of the wild garden, once again disappearing between the trees, and they silently start to make their way back into the Temple proper.

“I hope you have an alibi for this,” Obi-Wan tells him when they are back in his quarters, changed back into their robes and with only a single cup of tea to share between them; because Mace hasn’t been back to his rooms in the Temple for so long that somebody had helpfully cleared out his entire kitchen. “They _will_ ask.”

He can only nod, rubbing his forehead to stave off the headache that he could feel building there.

“Your old Padawan?” Obi-Wan guesses with a tilt of his head, resting his cheek against a softly curled fist. “That’ll never hold up in court, you know.”

Mace sighs and drains the last dregs of tea from the cup.

“Well then, do you have any suggestions, Master Kenobi?”

Slanting his eyes towards the open doorway to Mace’s bedroom, Obi-Wan smiles.

“I’ve got a few.”

**Part Two**

_The morning after the thrilling escape of the Zillo Beast, two Jedi are woken early by a visit from the Coruscant Guard..._

“General Windu! Are you in there? Please open the door!”

All told, it’s hardly the worst wake up call he’s ever received. But given that he hasn’t been able to sleep in his own bed in months, and that he has a very warm and very naked Obi-Wan burrowing into his side, Mace thinks that he can be forgiven for pretending that he’s _not_ actually in here, and _no_ , he can’t open the door. Groaning into Mace’s chest before lifting his head and blinking down at him, bleary-eyed and looking thoroughly rumpled, it’s clear that Obi-Wan is not of the same mind.

“Hello, there,” he greets the other Jedi, who continues blinking for a moment before he grunts unintelligibly and then slides ungracefully out of the bed.

Outside, the door chime rings again, followed by a fist pounding against the door. This time he can focus enough to hear Ponds’ voice, arguing with whoever had knocked. He can’t make out the words, and doesn’t particularly care to, so he settles for watching Obi-Wan grope around on the floor until he’s managed to find some leggings and a robe.

As he leaves the bedroom, hopping to get the leggings on, he notes that Obi-Wan had grabbed Mace’s robe instead of his own, knowing full well that Mace’s shoulders couldn’t fit into any of his clothes and giving away that he’s not as sleep-addled as he’s pretending to be. Listening as Obi-Wan makes his way through the living area, he waits until the door opens before sitting up to find his own leggings.

“General Kenobi!” Comes the startled voice of a Clone Commander, likely Commander Fox, if Mace is not mistaken. “What are you doing here? That is—”

“I’ll leave this with you, shall I, Master Kenobi?” Says Madame Nu, unimpressed, over the strangled tones of the flustered Coruscant Guard Commander before her quick footsteps echo down the hall.

“Apologies, General,” says Obi-Wan’s own Commander, sounding completely unaffected. “As I was explaining to Commander Fox, there’s clearly been a misunderstanding.”

“It’s no matter, Commander,” Obi-Wan replies, his smooth voice still thick with sleep. He clears his throat politely. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Sir, are you aware that at approximately 2100 hours last night, there was a break in at the Zillo Beast Containment Facility?” Fox asks, diving straight into it. Likely, Obi-Wan had failed to fully secure the robe before opening the door.

“Goodness, no! Are the perpetrators still alive?” Obi-Wan exclaims, laying it on pretty thick.

“That’s the issue, sir,” Commander Fox says, sounding aggrieved. “The culprits are still at large, and what’s more— the Zillo Beast is unaccounted for.”

A beat of silence.

“Commander, I’m not sure I understand.”

“We believe the Zillo Beast to have been stolen, General Kenobi,” Commander Fox answers.

Another beat of silence.

“Commander, I won’t insult your intelligence by asking whether you actually believe that a creature like the Zillo Beast can be _stolen_ ,” Obi-Wan reasons, apparently trying to be the sane man in the conversation and enjoying it immensely.

“Regardless of my own opinions, sir, I have to ask: can you confirm the location of General Windu between the hours of 2100 to 2200?”

“Yes, he was with me,” Obi-Wan answers immediately. “But I don’t see how that is relevant… ?”

“It’s because I expressed concerns regarding the Zillo Beast being contained on Coruscant,” Mace says, walking into the living area wearing his leggings. And only his leggings, exactly as Obi-Wan planned.

“General!” Ponds starts, blinking at him once before politely staring at a point slightly above Mace’s bare shoulder. “General Windu, sir, Commander Fox is here because the Supreme Chancellor suspects you had a hand in stealing the Zillo Beast.”

He turns an unimpressed look on the still-helmeted Commander Fox. “Which, of course, is ridiculous in the extreme.”

“Of course,” Mace agrees gamely.

Coming up behind Obi-Wan, Mace isn’t so cruel as to play on either Commander Fox or Ponds’ nerves, and simply rests a hand on the shorter Jedi’s shoulder. Though even this seems to be a bit much for them as both their heads tilt obviously to the point of contact before they quickly avert their gaze. By contrast, Commander Cody stands as an immovable pillar between them, expression haughty and affecting carefully contained superiority at the way things are playing out. No doubt, exactly as he had told his fellow Commanders.

“Of course, if the Chancellor has any doubts, I’m more than happy to put his mind to rest regarding the matter.”

Commander Fox nods gratefully, raising the datapad clutched tightly in his hands. “General Kenobi claims that you were with him between the hours of 2100 and 2200, do you confirm his account?”

“Yes, we were together all night,” he answers truthfully.

“I… see. And where were you, at that time?” 

Though he can’t see it, by Ponds’ flustered reaction, he knows that Obi-Wan is sporting a particularly shameless expression on his face.

“Together?” He asks for clarity.

“Yes… together,” Commander Fox confirms haltingly.

“Here, in the Temple,” he answers again, truthfully. “And then - more specifically - here, in my rooms.”

“Is there any way to confirm that?” 

“I’m afraid the Temple only has surveillance in public and communal areas, not private residence halls, Commander,” Obi-Wan answers, sounding genuinely regretful.

“If I may, sir,” Commander Cody interjects. “As I previously informed Commander Fox, I contacted General Kenobi at 2056 hours, and Commander Ponds, Captain Rex, and Lieutenant Waxer were all present. I can confirm that Generals Kenobi and Windu were together at that time, and that the location ping for the signal on the receiver used was routed from the Temple Communications Centre.”

Silence falls as they all turn to look expectantly at Commander Fox who is still tapping away on his datapad.

He has to hand it to Obi-Wan. It was certainly turning out to be a neat little operation.

After a moment, Commander Fox looks up again, this time addressing Obi-Wan. “General Kenobi, would you be willing to provide your comm unit for inspection, in order to confirm Commander Cody’s words?”

“Yes, of course!” He says, pleased to help. Naturally. “Let me go find it.”

Quickly scurrying back to the bedroom, Obi-Wan leaves him with the three Commanders standing awkwardly at the threshold.

“Forgive my rudeness, I should have offered— would you like to come in?” Mace asks, half turning before Commander Fox hurriedly stops him, stylus almost flying from his hand and his helmet emitting a worrying little blatt of static.

“That’s quite alright, General Windu!” The Commander insists. “We won’t take up much more of your time.”

“Not at all,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe. “As Jedi we are available to aid the Republic however we can, of course.”

“Of course,” Commander Fox agrees weakly.

“Do forgive me, I had a spot of trouble finding it!” Obi-Wan says, sweeping back out of the bedroom theatrically and handing the comm unit over with a flourish.

Once again, all attention is fixed upon Commander Fox as he inspects the comm unit from all angles before connecting it to his datapad. They watch as he visibly scrolls through several pages of messages, his thoughts—though unspoken—felt quite clearly by all of them regardless of Force sensitivity.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan smiles bemusedly. “Anakin is very concerned with clear communication in the field.”

Mace doesn’t roll his eyes, knowing full well that the reams of messages Anakin Skywalker is wont to send out are rarely even peripherally on-topic for whatever deployment his Legion was engaged in at any given time. Mace doesn’t need to know exactly which species of tree worm is edible on Saleucami, though he’s sure Master Yoda had appreciated the information.

“That all looks to be in order, sir,” Commander Fox says, pretending to have not heard a single word regarding Skywalker’s messaging habits as he hands the device back to Obi-Wan. “Thank you for providing your comm unit for inspection.”

“If that will be all, then, Commander?” He asks, tone not quite sharp as he addressed the Coruscant Guard.

“Yes, sir,” Commander Fox salutes, nonplussed. “Our apologies for disturbing you.”

“No harm done, Commander,” Obi-Wan says charmingly, leaning into Mace’s shoulder while combing a hand through his hair. “I do wish you luck in your investigation.”

Ponds is quick to salute next, still carefully averting his eyes and pivoting to walk away in step with Commander Fox. Commander Cody lingers for a moment, exchanging a narrow-eyed look with Obi-Wan, his Force presence tinged with amusement, before he nods informally and trails off after the other troopers.

“I’ll give you credit for forethought,” Mace says, as soon as the door has shut, pulling Obi-Wan around to press him against the cool metal. 

Feeling pleasantly giddy at indulging in a little more mischief, he smothers Obi-Wan’s laugh with a kiss, hands anchored at his slim hips. Gripping his forearms tightly, the other Jedi allows himself to be pushed back, tilting his head so his hair brushes against Mace’s cheek.

“Only that? How ungenerous of you, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan pants when Mace finally pulls back, his lips pleasantly pink and, as always, completely incapable of resisting the urge to run his mouth.

Mace can’t keep from laughing, burying the sound in Obi-Wan’s neck, continuing to lay a trail of kisses up to his ear. Sighing contentedly, the other Jedi winds his arms around Mace’s bare back, blunt nails idly scratching up to his scalp.

“You owe me for this,” Obi-Wan says, voice thick with amusement. “Our dear Supreme Chancellor does not seem happy if he’s sending the Corrie Guard to your door at the crack of dawn.”

He snorts at that, shaking his head minutely, unwilling to spend any of his free time thinking of the Chancellor.

“You can call it in next time you’re accused of treason against His Excellency,” he says, sending Obi-Wan into fresh peals of laughter.

Satisfied now that nobody was going to come knocking on his door again this morning, Mace pulls Obi-Wan along back to the bedroom.

They may as well make use of the free time, while they have it.

**Epilogue**

_It is the Post Reformation Year 982, the morning after The Great Armistice, and the Jedi Council convenes to discuss their aims for the future. But first…_

“Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Master Windu?”

“What. Is that?”

The giant green and blue lizard curled around Obi-Wan’s chair lifts its head to stare at Mace with a curious eye. It chirps; a bright, melodic sound.

“Her name is Boga,” Obi-Wan answers innocently, and the giant lizard chirps again on hearing her name. “She’s a veractyl.”

“And why is she here?”

Obi-Wan has the gall to look confused by the question. “I’m assuming it’s because she likes it here.”

“And how did she _get_ here?”

“The same way most people get here, Master Windu. She walked through the door.”

Closing his eyes, Mace takes a deep, calming breath. He tries again.

“Why do _you_ have a veractyl, Obi-Wan?”

The other Jedi smiles beatifically, eyes shining with the mutual knowledge of a secret not meant to be shared, but being _oh so_ tempted.

He quirks a brow, shrugging carelessly.

“She followed me home.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> **Second Epilogue**   
>  _Deep within the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, two Councillors contemplate a new development…_
> 
> “Mace, those are eggs.”
> 
> “I know, Obi-Wan.”
> 
> “Mace, there shouldn’t be any eggs.”
> 
> “I know, Obi-Wan.”
> 
> “Why are there eggs, Mace?”
> 
> “I don’t know, Obi-Wan.”
> 
> “Well, what are we going to do about them? I’d say we have two years from when they hatch before they’ll be too big to fit in here.”
> 
> “... How many kids does Skywalker have again?”
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> (“Boga never causes trouble like this.”
> 
> “Obi-Wan?”
> 
> “Yes, Mace?”
> 
> “Stop talking.”)


End file.
